by T. J. Kline
Anna stopped at the foot of the stairs where a limousine idled on the street. The driver stepped out of the car and moved around to open the back passenger door for her. “Oh! Um…”
“You are Miss Nolan, aren’t you?” The driver’s voice held a slightly haughty tone. At Anna’s nod, he continued. “Mr. Radcliffe sent me to pick you up for your meeting with him, his grandmother, and Miss Maurier this morning.”
“Who?” She held her portfolio to her chest, her purse hanging from her arm.
The driver pinched his mouth together. “His grandmother is Mrs. Wilhelmina Radcliffe, and Miss Stephanie Maurier is Mr. Radcliffe’s fiancée,” he clarified. “We really should get going, ma’am, before we hit the morning commuter traffic. Mrs. Radcliffe doesn’t tolerate tardiness.”
Anna slid into the backseat of the plush car, clutching her coffee and portfolio.
The driver bent into the car and said, “I am Mr. Remington, ma’am, and I am at your disposal whenever you need me.”
“But why…”
“Mr. Radcliffe has instructed it.”
Mr. Remington stood and made his way around to the driver’s side of the car. Anna sat in the back as he eased the car onto Guerrero Street, feeling awkward and uncomfortable in spite of the smooth leather seats. The limo was too big, too elaborate, and too pretentious for her liking. She unbuckled her seat belt and moved closer to the window partition, tapping the glass to get Mr. Remington’s attention.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Would you mind prepping me a bit? Maybe on what to expect?”
From his profile, Anna could see Mr. Remington smile slightly. “I’d be glad to, ma’am. What would you like to know?”
“Mr. Radcliffe seems rather generous,” she hinted. “I mean, I would have been fine taking the bus.”
“Nonsense, ma’am. He insisted that if not for him, you’d have a car to drive, and I’m happy to do it.” He glanced at her in the rearview mirror with a conspiratorial smirk. “To tell the truth, most days I sit in the driveway buffing the car, waiting for someone to need my services. It’s a welcome treat, ma’am.”
Anna chewed at her thumbnail nervously. What if Gabriel decided this was a mistake? What if his fiancée overruled his decision? After all, it was her wedding, too.
“Don’t be worried, ma’am,” Mr. Remington said, looking at her reflection in the rearview mirror. “The Radcliffes are good people, regardless of what some people might say.”
Anna felt her stomach drop to her toes before it knotted up again. Instead of instilling confidence, the driver’s words only made her more stressed about this upcoming meeting. What did other people say?
Chapter 7
Anna sucked in a breath as a security guard opened a gate at the curb, and the car drove through and pulled up a long, U-shaped driveway. The Radcliffe Mansion looked more like a modern-day castle than a house, complete with what looked like a butler out of a movie, standing and waiting for her, apparently.
Mr. Remington jumped out and opened her door. “Mr. Graves will take you up to the house, ma’am.” He bowed his head slightly. “I’ll be waiting here to take you home when you finish.”
Anna took the portfolio he held out to her. “Thank you, Mr. Remington.” She glanced up at the massive house. “Wish me luck.”
He smiled at her. “You’ll do fine, ma’am. Just keep your head high and don’t let them smell any fear.”
Easy for you to say.
“Follow me, ma’am.”
Anna hadn’t been called ma’am so many times in her entire life. She followed the butler as he led her up the marble staircase at the front of the house where it ended at a large terrace, looming and statuesque. Mr. Graves escorted her through giant front doors, into a magnificent rotunda with dark marble walls and satiny, cream-colored marble flooring. From the door on her right, an austere gentleman emerged wearing a long black coat, slacks, and a straight tie. His posture was ramrod straight, and his every step precise. He stopped in front of Anna and nodded his head sharply once.
“Miss Nolan, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Mr. Lowell, the manager of the Radcliffe household. If you’ll follow me, I’d be happy to take you to where Mrs. Dillard, the head of our housekeeping staff, is waiting for you.” He glanced down at the portfolio and the travel mug of coffee that she’d been too nervous to drink. “Would you like me to take that cup, Miss? I’d be happy to have it washed for you.”
Anna blushed, unsure how she was expected to act in a place this fancy. She was a small-town girl from a Podunk town in the Midwest. She’d only seen houses like this on HGTV.
“It’s okay,” she muttered, clipping the lid closed on her travel mug and tucking it into her knockoff Coach purse.
“Very well,” he said with another nod. “This way, please.”
Anna held her breath as they made their way through the grand rotunda to an atrium flanked with marble statues and pillars, crowned with a beautiful arched glass ceiling to let in the light. She looked up at it, rising several stories above her, in awe of the Grecian architecture.
“This place is amazing,” she whispered.
“Yes, Miss. It’s a lovely house. It was built by Mr. Lawrence Radcliffe in 1902 for his bride. Since then, it has remained in the family.” They walked through the atrium to a door at the back of the house. Mr. Lowell led her inside, announcing her as if she were royalty. “Miss Nolan has arrived, Mrs. Stowe.”
A woman looked up from a wing chair in the center of the room. “Good morning, Miss Nolan. I’m Mrs. Stowe, the wedding planner for Miss Maurier’s wedding. Please have a seat. We have little time to get acquainted before Miss Maurier and Mrs. Radcliffe arrive. Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
“You may leave, Mrs. Dillard.”
Mrs. Stowe looked like she’d just swallowed the world’s most sour lemon as she waved away the woman Anna assumed was Mrs. Dillard, who had been waiting silently nearby with a serving tray. On the table in front of Mrs. Stowe were color swatches that lay in coordinated piles, an open calendar, and a list of contacts in what looked like a Tiffany binder. Even the pen she used to write with seemed to be plated in gold. The woman pinched her thin lips together and sat, crossing her legs at the ankle and folding her hands in her lap. She couldn’t be much older than Anna, but she was definitely more comfortable in these surroundings than Anna was.
“I’m thrilled to have this opportunity, Mrs. Stowe. I—”
“I’m sure you are.” She narrowed her eyes, her gaze sliding over Anna as if she were a disgusting specimen of vermin. “You do realize that I’ve looked you up. I know you were fired from your last position, and that you are hardly qualified for an undertaking such as this.”
“Excuse me?” Anna saw a shadow moving in the open doorway and knew someone was eavesdropping on their conversation. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but—”
Mrs. Stowe held up a hand. “Don’t even bother. I may not be able to change this situation, but I just want us to be clear from the beginning. I don’t like you and I don’t trust people who sneak into a position without earning it.”
Anna stiffened, ready to defend herself. “What, exactly, are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything.” Mrs. Stowe inspected her flawless manicure. “People who sleep their way to the top, especially within these very small social circles, are usually ousted quickly and lose all credibility, Miss Nolan.” She pinned Anna with a withering glare. “You’d do well to remember that because, I’m sorry to say, word spreads fast.”
Impotent rage built up within Anna and she knew there was nothing she could say without jeopardizing this position she needed so desperately…but her pride wouldn’t let her remain silent. “Are you suggesting that I slept with—”
“Good morning, ladies.” A thin, perfectly tailored woman swept past Anna. “Mrs. Radcliffe will be in shortly, but I want to warn you both that she cannot stay long this morning. Miss Maurier is caught
in traffic so we will begin without her.”
Begin without the bride-to-be?
“I am Mrs. Meyers, Wilhelmina Radcliffe’s personal assistant.” She made her way to one of the love seats and slid her notepad on the table, passing each woman a sheet of paper. “Here are the points Mrs. Radcliffe wishes to discuss today. Of course, we’ve added the floral arrangements now, Miss Nolan, since you’ve been hired to the planning staff. Thanks to Mr. Radcliffe.”
Anna’s gaze quickly scanned the agenda, seeing her name, and not floral arrangements listed at the bottom. Dread crept through her as she eyed the notepad on the table, seeing her name hastily scribbled several times. Mrs. Meyers flipped the cover of the portfolio pad closed and Anna saw the two women exchange a conspiratorial glance.
There was little doubt rumors about Anna had already spread throughout the house, and Anna knew exactly who had started them.
Chapter 8
San Francisco was filled with cutthroat professionals, but Anna had never felt more helpless than she did sitting in front of these two women. They presented a formidable wall of distaste. Holding her portfolio against her chest like armor, Anna realized these she-wolves were ready to tear her heart out.
Mrs. Stowe arched an icy brow. “Are you unwell, Miss Nolan? You suddenly seem a bit pale.”
Her words mimicked concern, but the undercurrent of contempt hung in the room like a storm cloud. The same ire Anna had felt at Gabriel’s entitlement simmered in her chest, but she tempered it. Last night, she’d been frustrated at her circumstances; today, the opportunity of a lifetime was laid out in front of her. She had everything to lose if she didn’t control herself. She had to tread carefully. Whether she liked it or not, these two women held the power to destroy her future in their hands.
Squaring her shoulders, Anna took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing her voice to remain steady and emotionless. “I need to use the restroom.”
Mrs. Meyers smirked, her thin lips almost disappearing behind pearly white teeth. “Of course. It’s to the left of the door behind you.”
Unwilling to turn her back on the pair of vampires just yet, Anna slid her portfolio with the few pictures of samples she’d been able to salvage from the car onto the chair. “Thank you. I’ll only be a moment.”
She took a step backward, feeling like she was escaping a lion’s den, when the heel of her boot crumpled beneath her and her back collided with a hard wall of muscle.
“Ow!”
Anna wanted to slip away but the hands that kept her from tumbling to the floor had a firm grasp on her upper arms, sending heat swirling through her to rest low in her belly.
“I suppose I deserve that after ruining your car last night, but I thought we’d come to a truce.” Gabriel’s chuckle surrounded her, soothing her raw emotions and sweeping away the harsh judgment of the women seated across the room. “Are you all right?”
Anna nodded, trying to recover her equilibrium as the two women watched with shrewd attention. “Thank you, Mr. Radcliffe.”
Gabriel arched a brow at her, obviously surprised by her sudden meekness after the way she’d ripped into him the night before, but Anna wasn’t about to give either of these harpies fuel for more rumors. Gabriel released her arms, leaving her skin chilled where his hands had been warm and comforting.
“Anna, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Stephanie Maurier.” Gabriel moved aside as an exquisite woman stepped out from behind him. Her golden-blond hair was swept back in an elaborate braided hairdo that cascaded over one shoulder. Large blue eyes twinkled with excitement and a genuine smile spread over her lips as she reached out to shake Anna’s hand.
“Anna, it’s wonderful to meet you. Gabe has been going on about your work since he saw your pictures last night.” She turned back toward her fiancé, nudging his ribs. “If I’d known a fender bender would get him involved in the wedding plans, I’d have arranged it sooner.”
Stephanie was not what Anna had expected, especially after the frigid greeting she’d received from the pair seated before her. Gabe’s fiancée was warm and gracious, with absolutely none of the condescending superiority Anna had been subjected to so far. Stephanie reached for Anna’s arm, leading her back toward the sofa to sit at her right side.
“So? Let me see these pictures.” She cast a sympathetic gaze toward Anna. “I know Gabe said that most of them got ruined, but we’ll fix that. We’ll have the wedding photographer take extra pictures of our arrangements for you, Anna. You can let him know, right, Mrs. Stowe?”
The woman fixed Anna with a plastic smile. “Of course, Miss Maurier.”
Stephanie let loose an exasperated sigh. “How many times do I have to ask you to call me Stephanie?”
Mrs. Stowe cocked her head to one side and nodded in submission. Gabriel chuckled quietly and Anna felt a shiver trickle down her spine at the intimacy of the sound. His hands landed lightly on the back of the couch, those long, tapered fingers caressing the top of Stephanie’s shoulders as he leaned toward her. Anna caught the scent of his woodsy cologne and tried not to inhale it, but holding her breath made it even harder to keep her pulse from racing. Or maybe that was just his nearness.
Of course you’re attracted to him. He’s not San Francisco’s Most Eligible Bachelor for nothing. But he’s not the guy for you.
Anna refused to indulge in any fantasies about Gabriel Radcliffe. This man was her boss, and engaged to someone who seemed very nice. She wasn’t about to give any more credence to the rumors already floating around.
Anna glanced up to see Mrs. Stowe and Mrs. Meyers watching her closely. She scooted to one side, putting space between her and the happy couple.
“I’ll leave you ladies to your wedding planning. Grandmother should be in here shortly and I have a few calls to make.”
Stephanie smiled at Gabe, adoration evident in her face as he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you for lunch.” Gabriel stood, addressing the others in the room. “Ladies, it was lovely to see you again.”
Once he’d taken a few steps toward the door, Anna began to relax. She’d remained completely professional with Gabriel, in spite of the goose bumps rising on her arms and her heart beating a million miles per hour.
“Oh, Anna, I forgot. Mr. Remington knows he’s to be at your disposal until your car is repaired. Just call me anytime and I’ll send him for your use.”
So much for maintaining a professional appearance.
Chapter 9
It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes for Stephanie to look through the few pictures Anna had left in her portfolio. Relief coursed through her when Stephanie loved each one she saw. Unfortunately, Wilhelmina Radcliffe still hadn’t shown up by the time Mrs. Stowe announced that she had to leave for another appointment, and unable to make any real decisions, Stephanie begged Anna to reschedule for the next day. Then she’d rushed off to lunch with her fiancé.
Adding the descriptive tag to Gabriel’s name made Anna feel guiltier for the vivid dreams she’d had about him last night. She resolved to keep plenty of distance between her and Gabe because she was a professional, damn it. Not to mention, she actually liked Stephanie. While the two of them might seem to have little in common, they had similar taste and ideas when it came to wedding decorations. Anna wasn’t about to jeopardize her career because of a sexy guy who smelled like wood. And laundry soap. And a hint of leather.
He smelled all male.
The next day, Anna was once again escorted through the atrium by Mr. Lowell. This time, he led her to the door on the left, into a dining room. A crystal chandelier hung over a round table with several place settings, but this room was far more simplistic than the living room she’d been in yesterday. The dark wood beams contrasted with pale apricot walls. The entire room was bright and cheery due to the wall of windows lining one entire side of the room.
“Miss Maurier and Mrs. Radcliffe will be in shortly, ma’am. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Anna had barely set her purse on one of the dining room chairs when Mr. Lowell exited the room. All alone, she tried to ignore the uneasy anticipation that fell over her. After her meeting with Mrs. Stowe and Mrs. Meyers, she wasn’t sure what to expect from Wilhelmina Radcliffe. She’d heard stories of the woman. She was a legend in San Francisco, taking over her husband’s failing business after his death and salvaging the family fortune. But respecting her business acumen and enjoying working for her might prove to be two very different things.
Anna looked out the window and took in the view of the garden at the back of the house. Most of the landscape beyond the property was blocked by tall Brisbane Box and sycamore trees, meant to keep out the prying eyes of neighbors. A gardener was busy trimming several low box hedges encircling a gazebo. Several birds flew past the windows in an attempt to land on the edge of the feeder, scattering seeds on the ground for the more intelligent few who pranced like dancers below.
Anna inhaled slowly, trying to let the beautiful early afternoon sun brighten her outlook on this meeting. Maybe Mrs. Radcliffe would be like Stephanie. It wasn’t fair for Anna to judge a stranger based on her assistant. The sound of women’s laughter came from one of the doors to her left. If the staff here had fun while they worked, Mrs. Radcliffe couldn’t be all bad.
“I don’t know. All I heard was that she deliberately sideswiped him.”
Anna felt a sudden chill settle over her. She eased closer to the door, hating herself for eavesdropping, but almost certain the staff was talking about her car accident. Pretending to inspect a painting over the fireplace, Anna leaned closer to the door.
